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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/22480879">More Than Enough Of A Bastard</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account'>orphan_account</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman &amp; Terry Pratchett</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Aziraphale Loves Crowley (Good Omens), Aziraphale is a Little Shit (Good Omens), Aziraphale is a Tease (Good Omens), Bottom Aziraphale (Good Omens), Bratty Aziraphale (Good Omens), Crowley Loves Aziraphale (Good Omens), Dom Crowley (Good Omens), Established Relationship, Ineffable Husbands (Good Omens), Light Dom/sub, Love Confessions, M/M, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Orgasm Denial, Protective Crowley (Good Omens), Rough Kissing, Rough Sex, Semi-Public Sex, Smut, Soft Crowley (Good Omens), South Downs Cottage (Good Omens), Sub Aziraphale (Good Omens), Teasing, Top Crowley (Good Omens), Wall Sex</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-01-30</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-01-30</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 07:16:02</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,245</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/22480879</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>He used all his charm to assure those lovely ladies and gentlemen that he and Aziraphale were the most educated, sophisticated, well-read two men in the entire London.<br/>And it was working rather well, except for one thing.<br/>Aziraphale. Aziraphale himself and whatever the Hell he was doing with his hand underneath the table.<br/>At first, Crowley thought that he imagined the whole thing. It must have been his demonic lustful nature taking the best of him. It couldn’t – it just COULDN’T – be that Aziraphale would risk jeopardizing this meeting by being so frivolous with his hands. But after he threw a glance downwards, where his legs were, he realized it really WAS happening – Aziraphale was stroking a spot on Crowley’s inner thigh, all the while smiling charmingly and chatting with his new friends.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>206</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>More Than Enough Of A Bastard</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>God only knew how much of a bastard Aziraphale really was. Every time Crowley thought he knew the limits of his bastard-ness, the angel pulled out yet another devastating thing to make him humble himself one again and accept that some things were just beyond understanding. Ineffable! The meaning of life. The immortality of a human soul. Love. Forgiveness.</p><p>The length Aziraphale would go to be a jackass.</p><p>They were both out on a fancy dinner with a few of Britain’s most prominent experts on antiquarian books. It was an occasion that Aziraphale himself initiated – as soon as he left his bookshop in the hands of his manager, he started seeking another form of employment, the one that would let him travel to London every now and then, but come home to Crowley and spend most of the time with him. He decided to be a consultant – teaching young antique dealers the secrets and rarely known details of his beloved trade. That decision was a happy one for both of them, but it required a number of preparations – a new, up-to-date ID for Aziraphale, an actual university diploma (Aziraphale had overall nine degrees – five from Oxford, two from Cambridge and other two from different universities, but it all happened before the 1950s, so his real diplomas would be of no use), writing e-mails to maintain contacts, making phone calls, arranging meetings… It all had been going on for several months and Crowley was more than thrilled to finally meet with people who would guide his husband to his new prospects and help him fulfill his dream.</p><p>Crowley would do anything to be presentable during the meeting – he wore a suit – an ACTUAL suit, a tie, a pair of trousers that were not shiny black jeans (they were extra tight, though – he had to draw the line somewhere), he even wore a rather formal pair of sunglasses. He told those people he had some sort of eye condition and apologized for wearing glasses indoors. He tried so hard to make a good impression – a stylish, polite, dedicated husband of angelic Mr. Fell. He used all his charm to assure those lovely ladies and gentlemen that he and Aziraphale were the most educated, sophisticated, well-read two men in the entire London.</p><p>And it was working rather well, except for one thing.</p><p>Aziraphale. Aziraphale himself and whatever the Hell he was doing with his hand underneath the table.</p><p>At first, Crowley thought that he imagined the whole thing. It must have been his demonic lustful nature taking the best of him. It couldn’t – it just COULDN’T – be that Aziraphale would risk jeopardizing this meeting by being so frivolous with his hands. But after he threw a glance downwards, where his legs were, he realized it really WAS happening – Aziraphale was stroking a spot on Crowley’s inner thigh, all the while smiling charmingly and chatting with his new friends. The angel didn’t as much as look at Crowley’s side – from outsider’s point of view, Mr. Fell just kept his hand on his own lap. All the while Mr. Fell’s husband and companion, Anthony Crowley, was smiling nervously, with his face reddening.</p><p>Aziraphale stopped for a while, letting Crowley come back to his senses, only to start torturing him again within several minutes. Then he stopped it again, but Crowley was already too aroused to calm down. Then that impossible angel claimed it was too hot in a restaurant, and took off his bowtie and undid the first two buttons on his shirt, baring his neck and the dimple just above his collarbone.</p><p>The bastard knew exactly what he was doing. He was perfectly aware that this particular spot drove Crowley insane – he kissed that dimple for so many times it seemed an eternity, and they’d been together for less than a year now. Oh, Aziraphale knew that the sight of his exposed neck would set Crowley on fire, especially after what he did to him under the table.</p><p>Aziraphale also knew that Crowley would never let anything go wrong on this particular event. If it was anything else, Crowley would’ve snapped a long time ago, and simply dragged him out of the restaurant without as much as saying goodbye. But not this time, when the impression on those people really mattered. This was maybe the only occasion when Crowley couldn’t be his usual reckless self, hence it was the only real chance for Aziraphale to tease him properly. And boy, did he grab this opportunity.</p><p>In retrospect, Crowley should’ve seen it coming. Aziraphale did something similar before, just not during such important events. Oh yes, Crowley realized, biting the corner of his glass, he should’ve seen it before – Aziraphale loved being a tease. He loved to see Crowley frustrated and desperate and hungry for him. Crowley threw a glance to the angel, who was all smiles and giggles. He realized, suddenly, that no one ever loved Aziraphale before and no one told him how gorgeous he was. Was that the real reason why he loved to drive Crowley crazy? To see just how much he is desired?</p><p>Aziraphale turned his head and looked Crowley in the eyes. Despite being nearly suffocating with lust, Crowley smiled sweetly and tenderly.</p><p>“I love you, angel”, he said quietly, so no one else will hear them. He saw Aziraphale brighten. Then he leaned closer and whispered in his ear: “And you will pay for what you’ve just done”</p><p>Crowley was never as relieved as when one of their counterparts picked up their phone and said that, sadly, the meeting has to end due to them being needed in the university building for some last-minute preparation for tomorrow’s big lecture. The other ones soon followed, each of them having their own excuse to leave soon. Was it a miracle?</p><p>Well, a happy coincidence would be a better term.</p><p>Aziraphale and Crowley walked out of the restaurant hand in hand, saying goodbyes and exchanging numbers and business cards. It seemed like the meeting went rather well – all the parties present were quite impressed by Aziraphale’s knowledge and experience and it looked like he was presented with a vast number of options career-wise.</p><p>The only one who wasn’t satisfied was Crowley.</p><p>As soon as they were alone once again, on the way to the car, Crowley grabbed Aziraphale’s hand really tight. He didn’t say anything until they stepped in an arch that led to a dark and empty alley.</p><p>“But Crowley, it’s not the way…”, Aziraphale started, but Crowley cut him off by grabbing his shoulders and pushing him to the wall.</p><p>“We’re gonna stay here for a while”, he whispered with a satisfied grin and took his glasses off. His eyes were probably beaming in the dark. “I have unfinished business with you”</p><p>Aziraphale smiled innocently.</p><p>“What do you mean, my dear?”, he asked, while looking so, so angelic, Crowley wouldn’t believe he was seducing him minutes ago if anyone told him.</p><p>“That was a dirty trick you pulled, angel”, Crowley purred. “I’m not gonna let it slide”</p><p>“A trick?”, Aziraphale asked, raising his eyebrows.</p><p>What a diva, Crowley thought. He pulled away.</p><p>“I must’ve been mistaken, then”, he said, acting as cool as he possibly could. “I was under the impression that you wanted me to want you. That you wanted me to want you quite badly. My apologies”</p><p>He tried really hard to suppress his smile, as he turned away and started walking.</p><p>“Wait!”, Aziraphale called. “Crowley, wait. Come here”</p><p>Crowley smiled with delight. He rushed back and pressed his entire body to Aziraphale’s, pushing him harder and harder to the wall.</p><p>“Nothing will happen until you confess”, he whispered in his ear. “Confess what you did and why you did it”</p><p>“I teased you”, Aziraphale answered in an ecstatic whisper. “Because I wanted you to be overwhelmed by passion”</p><p>“You succeeded”, Crowley went on. “I am overwhelmed. But now I can tease you. How would you like that?”</p><p>He put his lips on Aziraphale’s neck and kissed him so softly that it barely felt.</p><p>“Please”, Aziraphale begged. “Take me. I want you”</p><p>Crowley went on kissing his neck torturously lightly, refusing to go faster or harder.</p><p>“You are such a bastard, angel”, Crowley hissed. “A beautiful bastard. You love to drive me insane, and you know how weak I am for you. But I’m a demon. I’m not to be played with. Until, of course, the playing is so damn sweet… For everything you want, you’ll have to ask”</p><p>“Kiss me”, Aziraphale prayed. “I can’t wait anymore”</p><p>Crowley took Aziraphale’s face in his hands and planted the softest and gentle kiss on his lips. Aziraphale moaned.</p><p>“Please, please, kiss me harder”</p><p>Crowley leaned in and kissed him even lighter. Aziraphale put his hand on the back of Crowley’s neck and tried pulling him closer for a kiss, but Crowley quickly captured both his hands and slammed them against the wall.</p><p>“No way, angel”, he whispered with a smile. “It’s my turn to be in full charge. So, you want me to kiss you roughly?”</p><p>“Yes”, Aziraphale whined. “I want it. So much”</p><p>“I see”, Crowley whispered and realized he himself could wait no longer.</p><p>With force he didn’t know he possessed, he pressed himself against Aziraphale and kissed him like he never did before. It was furious, angry, fiery and messy, and he never felt anything as delightful as that. His fingers were grabbing the angel’s hair, his other hand caressed his thigh, while his tongue was battling with Aziraphale’s. The angel moaned loudly into the kiss and was visibly weak under Crowley’s touch.</p><p>“Is that what you want?”, Crowley asked, panting. “Was this your plan the whole time?”</p><p>“Yes”, Aziraphale answered, breathing heavily. “Please, don’t stop. I love it so much”</p><p>“I will take you here and now, against the wall”, Crowley whispered. “Do you want it?”</p><p>“Yes”, Aziraphale whispered, with his eyes closed.</p><p>“So I will”, Crowley said, and quickly turned him around, put his hands firmly on Aziraphale’s hips and pressed him again. “Because you’re MINE”</p><p>Aziraphale let out a suppressed cry.</p><p>“Is that what makes you hot?”, Crowley whispered in his ear, hastily taking care of both their trousers and underwear. “When I say you’re mine?”</p><p>“Yes”, Aziraphale said weakly, his soft body so helpless and sweet and hot.</p><p>“You ARE mine”, Crowley muttered, kissing and biting on his neck, while his fingers worked on preparing his lover for what he was about to do. “Mine, angel. Mine”</p><p>Aziraphale bit his lip, trying not to moan too loudly.</p><p>“Are you ready?”, Crowley asked gently.</p><p>“Yes”, Aziraphale answered with so much need in his voice. “Please, go on”</p><p>There wasn’t a single word that could describe the bliss that Crowley felt when he was finally inside him, after such a long teasing. Only then it became obvious just how much he desired Aziraphale and how hard it was not to give in earlier.</p><p>“I want you”, he whispered in Aziraphale’s ear. “Your body drives me crazy. I look at your white skin and soft curves and I want to make love to you until we both faint”</p><p>He turned Aziraphale’s head and kissed him hard on the lips.</p><p>“There’s no one like you”, he went on. “I adore every inch of you, angel. I worship you. I love you. You are perfection and you make me so damn hard”</p><p>Aziraphale was breathing heavily.</p><p>“Crowley”, he whispered. “I think I’m close”</p><p>Crowley stopped thrusting. He held still.</p><p>“Not yet. It’s not the time”, he whispered teasingly. “Kiss me, angel”</p><p>He knew how tantalizing it was, to stop on the verge of a climax, and to start kissing instead. But he was a demon, and demons should keep their words – he promised Aziraphale he would make him pay.</p><p>“Please, go on, Crowley”, Aziraphale whispered. “I want you to be hard”</p><p>Crowley kissed him gently.</p><p>“Really?”, he asked teasingly.</p><p>“Yes”, Aziraphale begged. “Please”</p><p>Then Crowley went on, this time not suppressing anything. He felt wild, unhinged, as he dug his nails into Aziraphale’s soft sides and thrust roughly, violently, quickly. Aziraphale was crying from pleasure, sweat and tears dripping from his face.<br/>
“You’re mine, angel”, Crowley whispered, and right before he came, he kissed Aziraphale one last time.</p><p>**</p><p>As soon as they got in the car and Crowley started driving, Aziraphale closed his eyes and within minutes was already passed out. Crowley threw a glance on his husband while they were waiting on the red lights, and found him peacefully dreaming.</p><p>“He had a busy day, smug bastard”, he thought fondly. He didn’t even turn the music not to disturb his angel’s sleep.</p><p>Within half an hour they were back home. Crowley gently shook Aziraphale’s shoulder.</p><p>“Wake up, angel”, he said softly. “I would appreciate if you got yourself in bed and not sleep in my car”</p><p>“Where are we?”, Aziraphale said, gazing around sleepily.</p><p>“Glad you didn’t ask me who I am”, Crowley said with a smirk. “Otherwise I’d assume that the phrase “fuck one’s brains out” should be read quite literally”</p><p>“Who are you?”, Aziraphale asked with a mocking surprise.</p><p>“Ah, no one in particular. Just some weird-ass demon who loved you for millennia married you, and most recently, had a rather steamy sexual encounter with you on the streets of London”</p><p>Aziraphale smiled.</p><p>“I’ve never been so happy”</p><p>“You’re such a bastard”, Crowley said fondly. “You are MY bastard”</p>
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